Eat Like A Dinosaur
by Military Mechanic
Summary: At that exact moment, he catches a glimpse of something white hovering in the hazy air around his nose. Rex trails off, going cross-eyed as he tries to focus on the whipped cream. Another slightly nasal laughter erupts from Weevil - and Rex goes to glare at him, really he does, but finds himself completely unable to move.


A/N: Can you all tell that I'm hyper-focusing again? Anywho, I need to make a special shout-out here. My sister (known as Hidanbutt on Tumblr) is the one that gives me the ideas and inspirations for these headcanons. I just put pen to paper and flesh them out. That is all.

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Weevil pushes the door to the cafe open, and the bell lets out a gentle chime to announce his presence. The blonde behind the counter looks up and smiles at him, then goes back to topping something off and handing it to her current customer. The upbeat tunes of Kyary reaches his ears, and a glance to the left reveals a young girl over at the stylized jukebox.

Not that he minds, of course. Though it's not something that he goes on about on a regular basis, mostly because Rex has no taste in music and openly despises anything that doesn't screech the words at you, Weevil has always been rather found of the pop-like music. It's nothing compared to the classics, but it's far better than the trash that constantly blares at his friends house.

These songs, at least, allow him to make out the words as they're being said.

A moment after he slips inside of the well-lit building, the door chimes again and Rex joins him. The darker haired boy is clearly not thrilled with their outing - but that's fine, because Weevil wasn't thrilled with spending his entire Saturday in Rex's pigsty of a bedroom, no matter how comfortable he'd been.

Neither of them actually speak to each other as they cross the room, shoes clacking against the checkerboard linolium beneath them, and head over to one of the booths in the back of the cafe. It's their usual seat, right up next to a window and close to the counter, because that's where Weevil sat even when he didn't bring Rex along with him.

They slide into the booth, Rex on one side and Weevil on the other, and Rex finally sprawls out across the top of the table with a groan.

"Damnit, this place takes forever to get too." complains Rex. "Why can't we go to somewhere closer or something? I mean, they all serve the same shit."

Weevil's purses his lips together and scowls at the other boy. "Because this is the one that I like. Just because you don't have any taste when it comes to what you shove into your mouth doesn't mean that I don't."

"I've got plenty of taste." snaps Rex, glowering up at Weevil from his position half-laying on the table. "It's just that I'd rather have a burger then some prissy yogurt."

Before Weevil can counter that and, oh, he planns on snapping right back at Rex with another insult and something a touch harsher this time, their waitress arrives. She's wearing the pink and black plaid dress that serves as her uniform, with a white lace apron tied about her waist and her dark hair pulled up in pigtails. The white tag on her shirt reads "Ayame".

"Hi there, and welcome to the Cherry Bomb!" she chirps, a bright smile on her face. "Can I get either of you a menu?"

As always, Weevil answers before Rex gets a chance too. "No. We'll have two parfaits, and an order of chocolate biscotties."

"Sure thing!" their waitress jots down the order on her notepad, and then she dissapears behind the counter, leaving an irritated Rex.

"I wanted a menu." states Rex, still slouched across the table. The comment is more tradition then actually meant, because, he has to admit, this place makes good sweets.

Weevil just snorts. "Then I guess you should have been paying attention instead of trying to sleep on the table."

Half-hearted comments are traded like that, back and forth, back and forth, until Ayame appears once more, this time balancing a silver tray on one hand. Two tall, glass cups are sat down on the table; one in front of each of them, and a white tooled plate with several black biscotties are sat down between the two.

"If you need anything, just let me know." she says, and then she's off, swooping over to the next table and getting someone else's order, aiming for another tip.

"There. Now maybe you'll quit throwing such a fit." says Weevil, snatching up one of the oblong cookies. Personally, he would much rather have vanilla with his parfait. It just blends better with the yogurt and the fruit and the cream on top but, last time, Rex had done nothing but complain over the taste.

So, this time, he got chocolate.

Rex blinks at the plate suddenly in front of his nose, because he hadn't really been paying attention when the other boy ordered for them. As he sits up, picking a cookie up as he goes, a grin melds onto his face. "Aw, Weeves, looks like you _do_ have some taste buds left!"

Weevil rolls his eyes, but doesn't comment. Instead, he picks the cherry off of the top of his parfait, watching Rex dip his biscottie into the mound of whipped cream. They eat in silence for a few moments and then Weevil can't help it and, honestly, doesn't even attempt to stop the chuckle that bubbles from between his lips.

Rex freezes, lowering his half-eaten cookie from his mouth. Dark brown and black crumbs are scattered about his lips and chin, and a thin swirl of white has made its home on the tip of his nose; though he doesn't notice that. Not yet, at least. Instead, he swallows the mouthful of food and frowns at Weevil. "What?"

"You eat like the dinosaurs you idolize." reprimands Weevil, but the sharp comment is ringed with another chuckle and comes out almost playful sounding instead of annoyed.

Rex blinks and pauses. He drops his biscottie into his partially empty glass, licking the cookie crumbs from his lips as he does so, and then frowns at Weevil. "What's wrong with that, bug-boy? At least I don't -"

At that exact moment, he catches a glimpse of something white hovering in the hazy air around his nose. Rex trails off, going cross-eyed as he tries to focus on the whipped cream. Another slightly nasal laughter erupts from Weevil - and Rex goes to glare at him, really he does, but finds himself completely unable to move.

Weevil leans across the table, stretching just slightly so that he can reach out and use his own napkin to wipe the swirl of whipped cream off of Rex's face, snickering the entire time he does. Then he drops back into his own seat and sets the napkin aside, instead picking up a spoon to scrape those last bits of vanilla yogurt out of his glass. When he looks up a moment later, Rex is still staring at him, a light flush tainting his cheeks.

"I know that you're still in the cave-man stages of functioning,' says Weevil, giving a slight smirk as he speaks. 'but try and actually hit your mouth, why don't you?"

For a moment, Rex sputters. It's not often that Weevil just off and does something like _that_ and it always manages to throw him for a loop when he does. Eventually, he settles for crossing his arms over his chest and a defensive: "I'll eat however the Hell I want too."


End file.
